


Office Hours

by violetpeche



Series: Yes I'm Changing [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Consensual Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Teacher/Student Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-05 13:25:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18366908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetpeche/pseuds/violetpeche
Summary: Kun’s chest starts to ache again as he watches the soft, pink tip of Ten’s tongue slip across his lower lip before biting it.“I could really,reallyuse your help, Dr. Qian.”





	Office Hours

**Author's Note:**

> **DO NOT COPY AND RE-UPLOAD THIS FIC ONTO ANOTHER WEBSITE FOR ANY REASON WHATSOEVER.**
> 
> **DO NOT TRANSLATE THIS STORY INTO ANOTHER LANGUAGE AND REPUBLISH WITHOUT MY PERMISSION. PLEASE CONTACT ME BEFORE TRANSLATING THE WORK.**
> 
> **THANK YOU FOR RESPECTING MY WISHES.**
> 
> horny-4-kun-and-ten squad, let's geddit
> 
> Huge, huge, huge thanks to [pinkwinwin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkwinwin/pseuds/pinkwinwin) for literally holding my hand through this and encouraging me to finish. Thank you for being the best beta/second set of eyes ever.
> 
> This was finished in time for week four of [neoprompts](https://twitter.com/neoprompts). The word of the week is:
> 
>  
> 
> **hedonism  
> **  
>  _belief that pleasure is the highest good_  
> 

Kun’s favorite green pen has finally ran out of ink. He’s in the middle of grading a stack of mid-terms from his 300-level electromagnetic theory class, desperate to mark them up before the journey home.

It’s his third night in a row staying late on campus grading papers, quizzes, and lab reports. When he took on the job at the university he vowed to keep as much of his work at work, and everything else could come home. Well, he could take his research home, but that mostly consisted of peer reviewed journals and case studies. Kun considered that quality alone time.

He shakes the pen a few times, desperate to get the ink flowing again, scratching away at an old department memo on his desk.

There’s a quick knock at his door that causes Kun’s heart to thump and jolt him out of his chair. He darts his eyes up at the clock on the wall. It’s half past 8 in the evening; he should be wrapping up his work in his office.

“Come in,” he says, throwing the pen into the bin under his desk. He adjusts the wire-rimmed frames on the bridge of his nose and looks up to see who’s opening his office door. “Oh, Ten.”

“Hi, Dr. Qian,” Ten says with a shy wave. He hikes up the strap of his duffle bag on his shoulder and runs a hand through his half-dried hair. A black strand falls back over his eyes as Kun crosses his legs in his seat. “I was just passing the building after hitting the gym.”

Kun folds his hands in his lap as Ten plunks down in the chair opposite his desk. He twists the gold band on his finger. “Get a good workout in?”

Ten nods. “Yeah, I did some weight circuits then swam for an hour afterward.”

Kun catches a whiff of the chlorine clinging to his skin, and a dull, soured sensation starts to flush over his own tongue. He watches a droplet of water fall onto Ten’s collarbone, exposed from under his hoodie. Kun tucks his lower lip between his teeth and darts his eyes back up to Ten’s face.

“You eat beforehand?”

Ten shakes his head, water flicking from the tips of his black hair. “No, couldn’t risk getting a cramp.”

Kun watches the droplets spray onto the edge of his desk and shards of light burst through them from the desk lamp. “You must be starving.”

“Ugh, I’m famished,” Ten rubs a hand over his belly, and the front of his hoodie slips up ever so slightly, and Kun catches a glimpse of the trail of sun-bleached hairs beneath Ten’s belly button and he feels his heart thunk against his chest.

“Me, too,” he says, voice going dry. Kun clears his throat.“We should grab something to eat.”

Ten falls back further into his seat, knees spreading wide as Ten grips onto the arms of the chair. He tilts his head to the side and thrums his fingers against his lips in thought. “That’s nice, but….” 

A _but…_ lingers in the few feet of space between them. Kun’s heart plunges straight into his stomach the moment the words fall out of Ten’s mouth. 

Ten’s always fascinated Kun from the moment they met. It was Ten’s expressive eyes, his reedy tenor when he turned petulant, and to this day, his elusive aura always catches Kun off guard. Kun’s enraptured; some days he’s convinced Ten’s untouchable. 

“Later, of course,” Kun says.

“Later,” Ten parrots, voice dropping into a soft cadence. He leans forward and drums his fingers on the edge of Kun’s desk. There is a silver chain draped around his neck with a rose gold band glinting under the lamp light. 

“These midterms are killing me.” Ten looks down for a brief second before slowly filtering his gaze back up through his eyelashes. Kun’s chest starts to ache again as he watches the soft, pink tip of Ten’s tongue slip across his lower lip before biting it. 

“I could really, _really_ use your help, Dr. Qian.”

Kun clears his throat again, adjusts the frames of his glasses, then sits up straighter in his chair. “Could you?”

“Yeah,” Ten scoots his chair closer to the edge of the desk. “I’m _slammed_ with exams right now.”

Kun sighs, leaning back in his chair and pondering the words. He takes his glasses off for a moment, rubbing the space between his eyes before answering. “You’re not the only one, you know.”

A gasp resonates in the room, and Kun opens his eyes and focuses on Ten again, who looks slightly offended.

“Of course I’m not,” Ten says, palm flying to rest over his chest.

“The students are depending on you–” Kun begins, but Ten leaps up from his chair and presses a finger to Kun’s lips. 

“Shh!” Ten’s brows are pinched and his finger is warm against Kun’s mouth. The movement nearly startles Kun out of his seat, but he looks up from his lashes to give Ten his full attention. “Just,” Ten starts again, lifting his finger away to pinch at Kun’s cheek. “Can you just go with this? Just this once?”

Kun rubs the side of his face and swats Ten’s hand away from his mouth. They’d talked about meeting in his office earlier last week, and it’s all Kun’s been thinking about since.

“As I was saying,” Ten says, plunking back down into his seat and crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m overwhelmed by all my exams, presentations, group projects.” Ten throws his head back and lets out a small groan. “It’s awful, I’m so stressed out,” he says, dragging out the syllables.

Kun waits a beat, lets Ten’s words linger around the room for a moment. The second hand on the clock above his door pecks away, and Kun weighs in for a brief moment if he wants to follow through with _this_. He wants to choose his words carefully to not make this any more awkward than he already feels. His muscles are seized up beneath a button up shirt, a tie, belt, and god forbid his left _shoe_.

As one of nine professors in the engineering department, advising nearly 50 students in the major alone, and the endless, breakneck cycle of grading quizzes, tests, exams, assigning group projects, conducting scholarly research, attending conferences, reading studies, and somehow finding the time to call his mother to make sure her only son was still standing, Kun wasn’t even close to being offered tenure. Some days he questioned if the life of academia, the life of passing on knowledge onto future generations, to ensure thinkers of the future were prepared to take on the world, was even worth a damn.

Kun was stressed out, too.

“Well then,” Kun loosens the purple brocade tie around his neck. ”How can I help you?”

Ten perks up from his seat and flashes a wicked smile. He pinches his thumb and forefinger around the band that’s dangling from his chain and begins to drag it left to right. It’s so quiet in the room, Kun can hear ever swipe of the ring clatter against the chain. The sound of it makes Kun shiver.

“To be completely honest, I just need to pass your class.” Ten presses the tip of his index finger to his lips and offers a coy smile.

Kun refuses to buckle so easily, so he takes his tie off all the way, fabric coiling onto the top of his desk. He clears his throat and furrows his brows. “You’ve performed poorly all semester,” Kun says firmly.

Ten flails his arms up into the air then draws his hands back down into his lap and lets out a dramatic sigh. “I-I can explain. Look–” He sinks further into the seat and runs a hand through his hair. It’s mostly dry now, and a new wave of chlorine floods Kun’s senses. “My dad will _kill_ me if I lose my scholarship.”

Kun snorts out a laugh with a hand flying to his mouth. _Ten? On scholarship?_ Kun regains his composure and continues. “You’ve had horrible attendance all semester. I barely recall you coming to any of my lectures. Do you even know which class I’m teaching?”

Ten’s mouth falls open. Kun expects a quick, witty reply, but Ten just stews on his question and picks the lint off his sleeve.

“Listen,” Ten rolls his eyes, “I _know_ I’m a bad student. Is there any way I can make it up?”

“You know I can’t offer extra credit to you and not everyone else,” Kun says.

“But, Dr. Qian,” he says, voice drawing out his name in a low whine. Ten brings his pointer finger up to his mouth and bites down on the tip, eyes daring Kun to challenge him. He gets up from his seat and leans forward to gently rest his palms onto the desk. Kun tries to ignore the burn starting in his cheeks, the hot flush creeping up his spine watching Ten’s thighs rub against the edge of his desk. 

“I can give you something other students can’t.”

Kun feels like his heart is going to leap out of his chest, and he can’t get a grip on _anything_ now. Ten might have just propositioned him in his goddamn office. Granted all of his colleagues have been out of the offices for hours now, yet the thrill– no –the sheer _panic_ of wanting to know if this is where Ten wants things to escalate makes his throat go dry. He’s almost afraid to keep the conversation going, but his own voice is too eager to mine out an answer for his brain to process.

“Like what?” Kun asks.

The faint hum of a vacuum cleaner starts on the other side of the door down the hall, and suddenly Kun feels like his tie is back around his neck. 

Ten crooks his finger beckoning Kun forward in his chair, a wry, sinister smile painting its way onto his face. “Me,” he whispers.

Kun feels possessed by a shockwave of sensations over one little word. Ten plays a wicked game. Kun follows his finger and leans forward, elbows digging into two stacks of papers as he inches toward Ten. All the blood in his body is rushing through his ears, and, god, all of his clothes feel tighter than before. Kun’s nervous, muscles straining to hide the tremble in his fingertips. This close, he can smell sweet mint curling from Ten’s mouth, can feel the warm breath filtering through his nose. Ten is staring straight at Kun like he wants to devour him whole. 

“That’s a generous offer,” Kun says, albeit strained. His voice sounds thin and there’s suddenly a large lump in his throat. “But I’m afraid I must decline, Mr. Li.”

Ten guffaws. “You look like you could loosen up,” he says. “You’re always so tense in lecture.”

“How would you know? You’re never there.”

Ten narrows his eyes. “Please, we already went over this – I’m bored.”

Ten looks soft and combative, nails scratching at the arms of his chair as he sinks further into his hoodie. Kun watches Ten ruffle a hand through his hair. It’s now dry and flat against his head, and the chlorine that was clinging to his skin has since evaporated into the ether. 

“How can you be bored if you don't even go to class? What do you even do with your life, Ten?”

Kun leans back in his chair to fold his arms across his chest. He watches Ten tense up in his chair, hunched forward with his necklace dangling like a pendulum. Ten’s knuckles have turned white, and there’s a faint pinkness spreading underneath the play of faint freckles across the bridge of his nose. 

Kun wonders if he went too far – he’s never chastised a student like that before – and he wants Ten to look up from his lap and directly at him to know he didn’t _really_ mean it.

“I–” Ten starts, voice barely above a whisper. His head is still turned looking down in his lap. Ten licks his lips once more before moving his eyes up to stare directly into Kun’s gaze. “I think about you.” 

Ten gets up from his seat, the legs of his chair scraping across the floor, and that’s when Kun can hear his heart thudding out of his own ears.

“I spend all day thinking about your hands,” Ten says, voice airy. He slinks over to the side of Kun’s desk, planting his palms over the stack of ungraded papers, “And how they’d feel around my neck.”

Kun’s eyes watch the tip of Ten’s index finger trace the slope of his own jaw. Ten twists his hand to grope at the base of his throat and swallows hard beneath his grip. The gesture makes Kun shift in his seat.

Ten closes his eyes and trails his hand down his chest. “But my favorite part of the day is when I think about you bending me over your desk and fucking some sense into me.”

The words have Kun’s stomach doing backflips, a flutter rumbling beneath his ribs. He watches Ten’s hand leave his throat and reach out toward him. Time slows to a crawl between them the moment Ten’s hand cups under Kun’s jaw. Kun leans his face into the warmth of his palm and closes his eyes for a moment. It’s a comforting gesture he loses himself into often.

Kun blinks open his eyes to see Ten staring at his lips. “Is that what you want, baby?” Kun says.

Ten’s fingers curl under his chin and gives it a firm squeeze. “Mhmm,” he says, the sound almost a whimper.

Kun gives a slight nod, and Ten quickly moves around the corner of his desk to stand before him. This close, he can smell traces of peaches mingling with the harsh chlorine clinging to Ten’s skin. Kun feels his heart swoop in his chest as soon as the tips of Ten’s fingers grab at his chin again and he surges downward to press a kiss to Kun’s lips. 

The bridge of Kun’s wire-rim frames slide up his nose and dig into his face, and Ten quickly stands upright again. There’s a smudge from Ten’s cheek that’s brushed up against his left lens, fogging Kun’s vision. Ten pinches his fingers around the corners of Kun’s frames and slowly slides them off his face. He folds the arms and turns around to slip them into one of his desk drawers.

Kun rises from his chair. “I can fuck some sense into you,” Kun says. He reaches for Ten’s lithe waist, fingertips slipping under the soft cotton over his hip and smoothing over warm skin.

“Please,” Ten gasps. He throws his arms around Kun’s neck. Kun feels his fingers card through the hair at his nape, and he swallows down a lump of anticipation bobbing in his throat. He brings a hand up to trace the outline of Ten’s mouth with his fingertips.

Ten closes his eyes and parts his lips, then purses them to press a delicate kiss. Ten flicks out the tip of his tongue to take the pads of Kun’s index and middle fingers, then wastes no time sucking them into his mouth. He laps his tongue around the fingers, breath coming out his nose in shallow huffs as he hallows his cheeks around the length of Kun’s fingers. The sight of it is filthy with spit pooling out of the corners of Ten’s mouth. Kun feels like his face is on fire, and he gives into the arousal building at the pit of his stomach.

His fingers slide out from Ten’s mouth with an obscene pop. Ten takes Kun’s hand to grab his wrist. The intensity of his gaze never wanes as he drags the flat of his tongue against Kuns palm. The sensation makes Kun’s stomach flip, and he can already feel the strain of his cock stirring in his trousers.

Ten goes to lick at the tips of Kun’s fingers again, but Kun snaps his hand out of Ten’s grasp. Ten lets out a silent growl and surges forward for a kiss. Kun’s head feels like it’s spinning upside down as he turns his face slightly to the left and reciprocates the kiss. The anticipation leading up to this second spills over with a quiet hum rolling between his lips. He feels Ten smile into it and Kun can’t help but let out a small chuckle himself. Kun stops to rest their foreheads together. 

“You really sure you want to do this?” Kun whispers.

Ten nuzzles his face at the base of Kun’s throat. He feels Ten’s teeth start to nip at the skin over his collarbone. “Yes,” Ten says, then presses a gentle kiss against the tender skin. Kun thinks he’ll kill Ten if he finds a bruise there, but he’ll probably take pleasure recalling the memory of how it ended up on him.

Kun smooths the hair away from Ten’s forehead. “Okay.”

Ten forms a wicked smile, looping his arms around Kun’s neck. “After all,” he whispers, leaning so close Kun can feel each word puff across his own lips. “I need to pass your class.”

Kun can’t help but roll his eyes, but then he decides to grab a fistful of hair at the crown of Ten’s head. Ten’s hands fly up to reach for Kun’s hand and he lets out a small wince.

“Get your clothes off then,” Kun says firmly. Ten’s staring at him, eyes glazing over almost in shock. Kun tugs at Ten’s hair once more, relishing the soft noise Ten makes. “And don’t tease me anymore. Understand?”

Ten closes his eyes and pants with a slow nod. “Yes, Dr. Qian.”

Ten makes haste throwing his hoodie over his head and onto the floor, and slips out of his joggers while Kun digs through his desk drawer to pull out a small bottle of lube and a strip of condoms.

“Hands on the desk, baby,” Kun says. He rolls up the sleeves of his button up shirt and flips open the cap of the lube to pour some over his fingers. Kun turns his gaze to find Ten graciously bent over his desk, back bowing and knees pressed together. Ten’s had the foresight to thankfully clear away the papers from the center of the desk. 

Ten’s peeking over his shoulder with a wanton stare, and Kun steps forward to place his left hand on Ten’s hip. Kun slips a foot between Ten’s calves and kicks outward to nudge Ten’s thighs apart. He slips his fingers between the cleft of Ten’s cheeks. He takes his left hand to unzip his trousers, letting them pool around his knees with his boxers to free his half-hard cock. He runs his left hand up the side of Ten’s waist, the smooth skin stretched over his ribs as he fucks Ten open with his fingers. Kun starts off slow, quietly concentrating on the shallow breaths stuttering from Ten’s mouth more than the low hum of a distant vacuum cleaner echoing in the hall.

He works Ten open into a frenzy, admiring the soft whimpers and declarations of pleasure whirring through the office.

“I’m ready,” Ten says between gasps. “Come on, come on.”

Kun buries his fingers and strikes his left hand against Ten’s cheek. The crack echoes through the room and Kun shakes the sting from his palm. “Don’t rush me.”

Kun pulls his fingers out, strips out of his shirt to drape over the back of his chair, and reaches for a condom off the desk. He carefully tears it open, tosses the wrapper onto his desk and slips it on. The stakes are already high for him and Ten right now; he can’t risk even more of mess in his office of all places. 

He steadies one hand on Ten’s hip and closes his eyes, focusing on the pleasure of pushing the head of his cock in past Ten’s rim.

“Shit,” Kun whispers.

Ten goes rigid beneath him. “Oh my god,” he whines, fist pounding on the wood.

Like a seventh sense, Kun’s blood goes cold the split second before he sinks further into Ten when suddenly there’s a knock at the door. Kun’s instinct is to pull out, but Ten’s quicker and kicks his legs up to push Kun inside him all the way. Kun feels like his gut is punched, cock burying into Ten’s heat as Ten’s face slams against the desk with a loud thud and a moan. 

“Dr. Qian?” a voice says on the other side of the door. 

Ten immediately starts to hiccup with laughter beneath him. Kun, resisting the urge to flee, drops his hand to the back of Ten’s black hair and pushes his face into the desk in a weak attempt to silence Ten.

“Hi!” Kun shouts.

Kun curses under his breath, panic shivering across his body as he hovers behind Ten’s ear. Ten has his hand over his mouth hiding behind his chuckles. 

“You want to get us fired?” Kun spits, but Ten laughs even harder.

“Everything okay in there?” the voice bellows again.

“Yes!” Kun shouts. His arms are starting to feel like jello, and the band on his finger suddenly feels like a vise when he white knuckles a fist against the top of the desk to hold still.

“Can I collect any trash?”

“Dirty–” Ten starts to say, but Kun slaps his hand across the front of his mouth and squeezes hard. He hopes that’ll shut him up, but Ten clenches down on him in retaliation.

“Nope!” Kun yelps. “I–I’ll take it out myself!”

Kun can hardly recognize his own voice - it’s gone reedy and tight under the strain of trying not to grind his hips. Ten’s body is like a furnace beneath him, and there’s already sweat gathering on the tops of his thighs. 

“Okay, sir. Have a good evening.”

“Likewise!” Kun squeaks.

Kun holds his breath for what feels like an eternity as he counts the steps trekking away from his office down the hall. His heart feels like his going to leap out of his throat. Kun comes back to earth when he feels a wet lick at the palm of his hand. He drops it from Ten’s mouth and wipes the spit against Ten’s shoulder.

“Hey,” Ten says, clenching around Kun’s cock. “Don’t forget about me.”

Kun feels electric, senses going into overdrive and panting into Ten’s ear. “We almost got caught.”

Ten brings a hand up to stroke at Kun’s hair. It’s a comforting gesture that Kun can’t help turning his head into.

“Do you want to go home?” Ten asks, tone soothing. “You can take me there if you’d rather.”

Kun considers the offer. His heart is still pounding so hard he can barely hear Ten murmuring beneath him. He knew there was a risk of this incident happening to them, but he didn’t consider it’d _actually_ almost happen. 

There should be ten million thoughts racing at the forefront of his mind right now: _-could they tell what was happening? -did they see Ten come into the office? -what if they tell the dean? -will he ever find work again? -will he be ostracized from his academic community? -what about all the research he’s put in over the years?_

But even as he pushes these thoughts away from the surface, he’s still ridiculously turned on at the thought of being buried inside of Ten over his desk in his office.

“Baby, you’re thinking too loudly,” Ten teases. “You with me?”

“Mhm.”

“Let’s go home then.” Ten says, voice sounding slightly disappointed. “At least now I know what your cock feels like in my ass in your office. Going to be dreaming about this for years.”

“No,” Kun says, peeling himself away from Ten’s back. He rests a hand on Ten’s waist again and starts to rock forward shallowly, earning a gasp from Ten. “No, let’s finish what we started.”

Kun’s feeling bold now, rapturous desire washing over him as he pulls out of Ten almost all the way and slowly pushes back in. Ten let’s out a whimper with each thrust as he picks up speed and Kun doesn’t ever want to stop. 

Ten gasps. “So _fucking_ good, Kun.” Ten’s palm slips against the wood under him. His cheek falls to the desk with a loud thud and a quiet moan falls from his lips.

“What?” Kun asks. Ten hasn’t called him by his first name all night. The slip up amuses Kun and he considers his next move. He settles on grabbing a fist full of Ten’s hair and gives it a harsh tug, savoring the low whine that falls from Ten’s mouth.

“Kun,” Ten says again, this time more of a whisper. Then he continues, voice stretching out the name endlessly, rolling off his tongue like a mantra in time with each thrust inside of him. “Kun, Kun, Kun.”

Kun pulls at Ten’s hair again to get his attention. Ten groans, arm flying up to grab at Kun’s wrist. Kun grits his teeth. 

“I did not spend 9 years of research hell for you to _not_ call me Dr. Qian,” he says. 

Kun lets go of Ten’s hair and slows his hips to a halt, grinding tortuously into Ten. His hands grip at the slight curve of Ten’s waist, just shy of the soft flesh where Kun knows he’s most ticklish.

Ten curls his hands into fists against the stained oak and chokes out: “Shut up and put your back into it, old man.”

Ten peers over his shoulder and gives a quick wink as he starts to rock his hips to meet Kun’s thrusts. 

Kun curls his mouth into a smile and falls forward, palms flat on either side of Ten’s face. “You’re such a brat,” he says.

“I know,” Ten nods, head shaking frantically beneath him.

He begins fucking Ten in earnest, hips snapping forward then teasing with a slow drag out. He can feel the glide of their sweat gather between his chest and Ten’s back.

“Mmm, yeah,” Ten moans. “Just like that, just like that.”

Kun’s close, so unbelievably turned on by every word Ten spits out, goading Kun to fuck him harder. He can feel his climax curling at his toes. He straightens up again to drive into Ten faster, throat going dry, hands cinched around Ten’s waist. Kun slams a hand down on the desk to change his angle, moaning in time with Ten. He looks down to see Ten with his face turned, left cheek plastered against the desk, mouth open and eyes closed in ecstasy. Kun resists an urge to draw a finger down the delicate slope of Ten’s nose. The line of piercings on Ten’s ear flare under the light of his desk lamp, leaving Kun lost in the moment to memorize the way the corner of Ten’s eye creases with each push. 

“I’m gonna come,” Kun says, leaning forward to press a kiss on the back of Ten’s neck, then the delicate spot just behind Ten’s ear. The back of a piercing grazes against the tip of Kun’s nose and he works his mouth back down to suckle at the juncture between Ten’s neck and shoulder.

Ten groans. “Fucking _give it_ to me.”

Kun starts to slow his thrusts and grind torturously slow, scraping his teeth against the soft flesh of Ten’s shoulder, breath panting harsh and wet. Ten’s hair at his nape smells like nectarines with a hint of chlorine warming up underneath the sheen of sweat. He’s lost in the sensations–the scents, the curses babbling from his mouth, Ten’s ravenous cries for _more, more, more_ , the sound of each filthy thrust echoing in the room.

“Please,” Ten begs, “come for me.”

Kun stills, spilling into the condom with a low moan. It’s like a punch in his gut, one of the most mind blowing orgasms Kun’s felt in a while. Ten grinds his hips back into him until finally Kun tells him to stop and pulls out.

He ties up the condom, legs wobbling as he wraps it up in a couple tissues from the box on his bookshelf. He’s trying to catch his breath and sort out where to put the used condom (definitely _not_ in the bin under his desk - he’d likely forget to throw it out in his post-fuck haze) while Ten managers to stand upright, necklace swinging about, and turns around to sit.

Ten perches himself on the edge of the desk, collarbones glistening. Kun wants to lick at the river of sweat trailing down the center of Ten’s chest and can still taste the salt on his tongue from the last moment his mouth was on Ten’s body. Ten brings the ring on the chain up to his mouth to suckle on it, then rakes his hands down his ribs, over his thighs, and takes hold of his knees to spread them wide. Kun can’t look away from Ten blooming under the soft glow of the desk lamp. His focus trails down, straight to Ten’s core, an irresistible offering Kun’s ready to take.

Ten throws back his head in ecstasy. “Come get your honey, baby.”

Kun tosses the wad of tissue onto the desk behind Ten and cups his hands beneath Ten’s jaw to brings their lips together. He opens his mouth to slip his tongue into Ten’s and kisses him fully. Ten plants his palms over Kun’s chest, and he wonders if Ten can feel how hard his heart is pounding beneath them. His whole body is still tingling, waves of currents shocking him with each point of contact. 

Kun begins to work his way down to Ten’s neck, peppering feathery kisses against his collarbone, sucking bruises on his chest, nails scratching at his ribs with teeth biting at his nipples. Kun’s relentless, craving to hear each surprised hitch in Ten’s breath. He licks the flat of his tongue across the plane of Ten’s hip, when finally, he drops onto his knees between Ten’s thighs. He kneads his hands into soft flesh and noses at Ten’s length. He’s hard, leaking so much it makes Kun’s mouth water. Ten lets out of a whimper and Kun flicks the tip of his tongue to lap at the head.

“Don’t tease me,” Ten whines.

Kun starts to hallow his cheeks and gathers spit in his mouth. He looks up from his lashes to see Ten watching him chewing at his lower lip. Kun lets a string of spit spill from his lips and onto Ten’s cock. He twists his hand down, welcoming a quiet moan out of Ten while slicking up his length.

“I can do whatever I want,” Kun says, staring straight into Ten’s eyes, challenging him.

Ten lets out a huff. “That’s not _fair_.”

Kun presses a delicate kiss the the underside of Ten’s cock. He wraps his fingers around the base and begins to work up and twist down the length suckling at the head. He takes his time with Ten, even though Ten shows all the signs of being close: his thighs start to close in on Kun’s shoulders, he tugs and pushes down at the crown of Kun’s head that has Kun moaning with delight. 

Ten comes in hot streaks, hitting the back of Kun's throat and making the corners of his eyes sting with tears. He swallows thickly, savoring the familiar taste.

“Fuck,” Ten whispers.

Kun falls back on his haunches, swiping his thumb at the corners of his mouth. He peers up at Ten whose chest is heaving just as rapidly as Kun’s and looks completely debauched. They each take a moment to regain themselves before Kun grabs his button-up off the rug.

“That was fucking incredible,” Ten pants, dropping to the floor to pick up his pile of clothes.

“Really,” Kun says, buttoning his shirt.

Ten shuffles over on his knees to adjust the few buttons Kun misaligned. “We should do this again sometime.”

“Absolutely not,” Kun says slapping Ten’s hand away.

“Come on, it was hot and you know it.”

He wants to agree with Ten - it _was_ amazing. Then again, every minute he spends with Ten is incredible, but he has to put his foot down. 

Kun stands up to pull on his boxers. “We are not risking it again!”

“Okay then,” Ten says, pulling his sweatshirt over his head. “So exhibitionism is not your forte, _fine_. We won’t fuck in public again.”

Kun pinches the bridge of his nose. “Ten–it’s not about that, it’s our careers at stake.”

Ten holds up a hand in defense. “Listen, I don’t want to fight after getting the dicking of my life.” Ten shimmies into his joggers. “I had a long meeting with my department this afternoon, my ass is sore, and I’m _starving_.”

Kun tightens the buckle around his waist. “What do you want?”

“I don’t know,” Ten shrugs ruffling his hair. “Do I look like I just got fucked sideways?”

Kun laughs. “I haven’t seen you walk yet.”

Ten lunges forward and playfully punches Kun’s arm. Kun tries to dodge it but is laughing too much to care. “I hate you.”

Kun grabs Ten’s wrist to pull Ten close and wraps his arms around Ten’s shoulders. “Oh really?”

“Mhmm,” Ten says, eyebrows arched in defiance.

“Shame.” Kun brushes a strand of hair away from Ten’s forehead and presses a gentle kiss in the center of it. “Because I’m madly in love with you.”

“You are so corny.”

“You love it,” Kun says with a laugh. He unhooks the chain from Ten’s neck and slips the band off to hand it to Ten then pockets the chain.

“Ugh, you’re right, and I want a steak.”

Kun presses another quick kiss to Ten’s temple. “That sounds good. You’re paying.”

Ten rolls his eyes. “We have a joint account.”

Kun takes Ten’s left hand and pecks a quick kiss on the back of it, thumb stroking over the rose gold band on Ten’s ring finger. “Don’t you think we’re moving a little fast, Mr. Li?”

“Fine. Steak’s on me,” Ten says wiggling his eyebrows, “ _Dr. Qian_.”

**Author's Note:**

> some postnotes: yes, they're married. they're both professors at the same university and work in different departments. this entire scene was pre-planned and consensual. i had a lot of fun exploring kun and ten's push-pull dynamic for this scenario. 12/10 would consider writing more for this undervalued ship. muah!
> 
> kudos and comments greatly appreciated! thanks for reading.
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/johntographique) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/violetpeche)


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